Chapter 20 Things I never owned

Chapter 20: Chapter 20 Things I never owned

Talia’s POV

That night, I was too tired to argue.

I had left the window and crawled onto the bed. My body was heavy, and my mind was foggy, to the point where I did not even hear the door open.

Kaelen walked in with a tray of food. He set it on the desk and looked at me.

"Eat," he said.

I did not argue, because I did not have the energy. The day had drained me completely.

I sat up and walked to the desk. The food was warm. I looked tiredly at the bread, soup, and cup of water, and I just ate without trying to digest the taste of it.

Kaelen watched me for a moment. Then he walked to the wardrobe and pulled out a shirt.

"You will get more clothes tomorrow," he said.

I looked up. "What?"

"Clothes, dresses, and things you need," he said, not looking at me. "You cannot wear the same dress every day."

I did not know what to say. No one had ever bought me clothes before. In Cresswood, I wore whatever Vivienne threw away.

Her old dresses were too big and smelled like her perfume. I hated that smell, and it followed me everywhere. But I could not say no, because saying no meant punishment. So I wore her scraps and said thank you, even though I hated saying thank you too.

"Thank you," I said.

He did not respond. He just disappeared into the bathroom.

When he came out, his hair was damp, and his shirt was loose. He walked to the bed and picked up his blanket.

"You can go out tomorrow," he said. "You do not need to stay in this room all day."

I stared at him. "Why do you care?"

He did not answer. He just laid his blanket on the floor and sat down.

The fire crackled in the silence, as I watched him from the bed, with his broad back turned to me. His shoulders were tense, and his hands rested on his knees. He looked like he was waiting for something, or maybe he was just avoiding my question.

I should have let it go. I should have rolled over and closed my eyes and pretended I did not care. But the words were already out before I could stop them.

"You brought me here because you had no choice," I said. "The bond chose me, but you did not."

He did not move or make a sound.

"So why do you care if I eat? Why do you care if I have clothes? Why do you care if I am okay?" I asked.

The silence stretched between us like a rope that was pulled tight. I thought he would not answer, and he would just ignore me like he always did.

But he spoke.

"I do not know," he said.

His voice was low, and barely above a whisper.

"I do not know why I care."

He lay down and turned his back to me.

"Go to sleep," he said.

I wanted to ask again, but the words would not come.

I lay down on the bed and stared at the ceiling, as the fire crackled. The room was warm, and I could not stop thinking about his words.

’I do not know why I care.’

He did not say he did not care. He just said he did not know why he did.

That was different.

I did not want to worry about more things tonight, so I closed my eyes and let sleep take me.

The next morning, I woke to knocking.

At first, I thought I was dreaming. The sound was soft but persistent. Tap. Tap. Tap.

I sat up. The fire had died, the room was cold, and Kaelen was gone. His blanket was folded on the floor as usual.

"Miss?" a voice called. "Are you awake?"

I climbed out of bed and walked to the door. Then I opened it.

Two servants stood in the hallway. They were carrying bags. So many bags that contained clothes, some carried shoes, while the others contained boxes I could not identify.

"What is this?" I asked.

"The Alpha’s orders," one of them said. "Your new things."

They carried the bags inside and set them on the bed. Then another servant came with a tray of food containing pancakes, eggs, fresh bread, and juice.

I stared at everything, and my mouth became dry. But whether it was from surprise or hunger, I did not know.

"Where did these come from?" I asked.

The servant smiled. "The Alpha sent for them this morning."

They left, and the door closed behind them.

I stood in the middle of the room frozen, and surrounded by bags and boxes and things I had never owned in my life.

I touched one of the bags. The fabric was soft, and it felt expensive. I pulled out a dress that was deep blue in colour, like the evening sky. I had never worn anything so beautiful.

I ran my fingers over the fabric again and again, because it was soft. So soft. I had forgotten what soft felt like, because everything in Cresswood was rough: the floor, the blankets, and the hands that hit me.

This dress was none of those things.